He said he loved me.
Back then, I didn’t know what love felt like—
I thought it was just something people said.
So I smiled, maybe even teased,
And told him 'no'.

Years later, he came back.
Same boy, same love,
And I still couldn’t feel it.
I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t there.
So again, I let him go.

But life has this cruel way of teaching.
One day, out of nowhere,
I felt it.
Everything he once did.
Every unsaid word, every silent hope.
And I told him.
God, I told him.
But he had already moved on.
And I—
I was just a page he’d already turned.

Now, after all this time,
I still feel him.
In the quiet.
In the places I wish he was.
But I know I can’t stay here.
So I’m choosing to let go.
Not because I want to,
But because I have to.

Pain is just a word until you feel it,
For feeble me, to heal it, remained beyond my wit.
Growing agony in eternal silence,
Unleashed a soul-wreaking storm of violence.
Now the inner demons are set free,
Feeding on the emotions buried deep in me.
I squeal,
I plead,
Just begging to let me be.

The weight of melancholy feels so real,
Breaking through it seems surreal.
A turmoil of emotions unleashed havoc,
With every passing moment, despair was evoked.
The idea of glee withered within me,
I feel as though deafening silence surrounds me.
I squeal,
I plead
In desperation to let me be.

I cease to wonder if there exist an end,
These feelings I can scarcely comprehend.
The urge to disappear remains constant,
Yet a part of me longs for a life of content.
I want to believe this is all temporary,
Yet nothing succeeds in lifting my misery.
I squeal,
I plead
In PAIN to let me be.        
                                                                       - PK